Tiramasu for Breakfast: How Susan ate her way across Italy

My first meal in Italy was an experience to remember.

I had been headed down towards teh lowlands of Italy from the pass at Sestriere when a voice in my head said "Hold on! What are you doing? You won't get to see these mountains again any time soon. Slow down!" So I did indeed slow down, and rolled to a stop in the next village with a visible hotel (only a few minutes later).

Balma, Italy has one hotel, Hotel Lion, and no shops of any kind (that I could find, anyway). The staff at the hotel was very friendly, and when they discovered that they were dealing with an English-speaking American, they fetched a man from the kitchen to deal with me and my registration for my night's stay.

So when I appeared at the hotel's restaurant that evening after a hike up into the mountains, the waiter nervously asked if I wanted "pizzeria or restaurant". I wasn´t sure why he was asking, but it looked like they were offering a good deal on the full "menu" (10 euros for a full meal), I told him I was interested in the "restaurant". At which point he ushered me into the kitchen so I could speak directly (in English) with the chef and tell him what I wanted.

Let's just say that by the end of my meal I could barely move... After devouring most of the bread served to me, the first course (pasta) had been followed by a meat dish and salad. At this point I was full, so opted for the coffee option instead of dessert. But they gave me a free dessert to try (because I was a special guest, apparently). And I wouldn´t want to be rude...

On my second night in Italy I ended up in an "agriturismo" in Piemonte, which in short means some kind of accommodation in a home in the countryside. This one happened to be a full apartment, complete with kitchen, living room, bath, and bedroom.. all for 30 euro, which was the best price for accommodation I´d seen in some time.

At the time, I was excited about the prospect of cooking (cheap!), and headed off to the nearest grocery store... which, unfortunately, was at the top of the next hill over... and returned to my little home to cook my meal.

As I discussed with a friend in Seattle by phone the next morning, the meal wasn´t that spectacular. The first problem is that when cooking for one while travelling, it´s hard to procure small amounts of ingredients for good cooking. The second is that I´m a terrible cook.

And thus we agreed that I should not cook in Italy. The prices for meals and accommodations were more reasonable than France, after all, so I might as well enjoy the fruits of the Italians' love for cooking.

And thus began my gastronomic tour of Italian gnocchi ata rifugio, calzone at a restaurant in Cortina, pizza in Belluno, farfalle in Belluno, panini at various cafe/bars along the way, gelato in Sirmione, "toast" and scuttlefish in Venice, as well as fried potatoes, chicken, spaghetti, struedel, and those little pasta things that are like a cross between ravioli and tortellini at various points along the way.

Perhaps because they put so much effort into other meals, Italian breakfast, like breakfast in Spain and France, is pretty minimal by American standards: bread and some jam and posibly cheese.

But the kind lady at the agriturismo in Pascoli, Italy, served homemade foccacia bread and leftover dessert for breakfast. Tiramasu for breakfast: pure genius and the perfect source of energy for the hungry cyclist!